Love Potion Number 9
by LarielRomeniel
Summary: So why in the world would Vandal Savage have a love potion? Plenty of tropes to be had here, inspired by a classic song. CanaryFire & CaptainCanary. Part of the "Lost and Found" 'verse, where Laurel Lance is resurrected and "Destiny" never happened.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is what happens when you listen to the 60s on 6 station on SiriusXM. I heard this song (the 1965 version by The Searchers) and started wondering what such a potion would do to the Legends team. I thought it would be a short one-shot, but it grew and grew… so it will be three chapters, posted every other day.

This is part of my "Lost and Found" 'verse, where Laurel Lance was resurrected and "Destiny" never happened. It's set sometime after "All I want For Christmas Is A New Code Name."

Many thanks to Jael for the beta, and for an interesting observation which I'll tell you about in the end notes to this chapter!

* * *

Laurel groaned as she slowly swam up into consciousness. She could only think that being resurrected after a few years of sobriety had taken away all her tolerance for alcohol; she'd only had one glass of that cognac. And not even a full glass at that.

She stretched a little, then froze when her foot touched… another foot? In her bed?

A loud snore brought her fully awake, springing out of the bed and landing in a defensive crouch.

Her movements didn't disturb Mick Rory one bit. He went on snoring.

 _What the hell?_

* * *

 _Yesterday_

Ray's helmet clattered to the deck and his jaw dropped when Laurel walked onto the bridge in the disguise Gideon had provided for her mission. Ray's mouth wasn't the only one to fall open; Stein gave Jax an obvious nudge, and the younger man visibly shook himself.

Her sister just grinned at her, saying, "Dad would kill you if he saw you in that dress."

Laurel smiled in return, flipping back a lock of the long red wig that topped off the outfit. "He wouldn't kill me. But he _would_ lock me up."

"And scrub all that makeup off your face," Sara agreed.

"And burn the wig," Laurel added.

"I'd help him," Mick grumbled, prompting a giggle from Laurel and a snort from Len.

"I'm not sure there's enough fabric in that outfit for it to qualify as a dress," Stein said.

Laurel had to admit the professor had a point. The dress was tight, short, red and strapless, a next-to-nothing combination that left next to nothing to the imagination.

"I think I've seen bandages that cover more," Ray said, still staring until Kendra nudged him with her shoulder. He bent to pick up his helmet, then straightened again to ask, "Uh… how the heck is it staying…"

Laurel laughed. "Dress tape. _Lots_ of dress tape."

Rip chuckled. "Well, gentlemen, I think your reactions prove the men in Savage's private club will notice Laurel's figure more than her face. And the wig and the makeup should help protect your identity, Laurel. You're now the only member of the team Savage doesn't know yet, and I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible."

"I still don't like this idea," Mick said. "Snart and I can break in and find out what Savage has been up to."

"1990 security systems wouldn't be that hard to beat," Len said with a nod.

"If this was 1990 Central City, I would agree with you, Mr. Snart," Rip answered. "But this is Washington, D.C., a town that learned some tough lessons about security with Watergate. The defense department came up with some very advanced systems, and Savage got his hands on one of them through his new contacts. No, a break-in would be too risky. We need to be more subtle."

"That dress ain't subtle," Mick said with a scowl.

"If the _dress_ was subtle it wouldn't work as a distraction," Rip answered. "The subtlety falls to Dr. Palmer and his ATOM suit."

Mick and Len looked at each other with matching eye rolls. Rip ignored them. "Now, mission briefing."

He touched the holo table and some old news footage appeared of people standing on top of the Berlin Wall, the Brandenburg Gate behind it. "This is six months ago," he said. "Savage's network of contacts crumbled with the Berlin Wall, but he's been rebuilding that network at a furious pace."

"Out with the old, in with the new," Jax said.

"Indeed," Rip said. "And the 'new' includes a surprising number of lawmakers and defense department officials." The display changed, showing a collection of official photos of men. All of the men were in suits or uniforms, and most of them were posed in front of an American flag.

"And you want us to find out just how Savage is getting them in his pocket," Laurel said.

"Yes, and hopefully we can figure out a way to get them out of it. The senators in particular. If they stay under his influence, it will kill the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty with the Soviet Union."

"Meaning the world would remain a nuclear tinderbox," Stein said.

"That's one kind of fire I'll pass on," Mick said.

Len nodded and added, "And I may like the cold, but I'm not so keen on the idea of a nuclear winter."

"Well, Savage is definitely running a boys' club," Kendra said. "Between that and Laurel's dress, I think we can guess how he's doing it."

"Oldest trick in the book," Sara agreed.

Stein shook his head. "I don't think it's that simple," he said, pointing at one of the civilian photos. "That's Congressman Tom Levitt from Ivy Town. I went to rabbinical school with him."

Mick snorted. "Wouldn't be the first time a man of the cloth didn't practice what he preached, Professor."

Stein adjusted his glasses. "Normally I would agree with you, Mr. Rory, but I actually know this man, and I know there's no way he would… _indulge_ the way you're all suggesting. It just doesn't make sense."

"Part of the mission is to make some sense of this," Rip said. "We also want to make sure Savage doesn't manage to add _this_ man to his collection of influential friends."

One of the photos expanded. It showed a man in an Air Force uniform. "Colonel James Sellers of the United States Air Force," Gideon recited.

"And why is he so important?" Laurel asked, studying the photo. The man was blond, blue-eyed and square-jawed, looking like a poster boy for Air Force recruitment with ribbons and medals pinned to his chest.

"It's who he _will_ be that matters," Rip answered. "Ten years from now, he will be the head of America's Strategic Command, the agency in charge of the country's nuclear weapons."

"Not someone Savage should have in his little black book," Len said, leaning forward on the holo table.

Rip pointed at him. "Exactly. Now, Sellers is one of the guests at a fundraising party Savage is hosting at his club this evening. Savage has hired a local modeling agency to provide hostesses. Laurel, you are going in as one of the hostesses, and you'll smuggle Dr. Palmer in with you. While you keep the colonel busy and out of Savage's clutches…"

"I'll snoop around the place and send the images back through the helmet camera I just installed. Easy," Ray finished. He put his helmet on and tipped his head toward Laurel. "All set, Phoenix?"

She smiled. "Party time."

* * *

 _She drives me crazy_

 _Like no one else_

 _She drives me crazy and I can't help myself_

Laurel wondered how anyone in this crowd of Washington movers and shakers was able to hear each other over the Fine Young Cannibals blasting over the club's speakers. She also wondered if the music was deafening the team listening in back on the ship.

The room was packed with men in power suits and uniforms, and women in dresses even more abbreviated than hers. Many were gathered around gaming tables, playing blackjack or roulette to raise money for a local veterans' charity.

 _"Too bad they don't have a baccarat table here,"_ Ray said over the comms. _"It would be very James Bond."_

 _"Never mind the entertainment,"_ Len drawled from the Waverider. _"Can you_ not _whip your head around quite so much? You're making us all seasick."_

 _"Oh, sorry,"_ Ray said contritely. _"Didn't think about that."_

 _"Any sign of Savage or the colonel?"_ Rip asked.

 _"I don't see Savage,"_ Ray said. _"But… yes, there's the colonel, at one of the blackjack tables. It's just him and the dealer. Go get 'im, Phoenix."_

"On it," Laurel answered softly. She wove through the crowd to the table in question.

Sellers looked just like his picture, wearing his dress blue uniform. When she walked up, he was considering the pair of aces before him. He motioned to the dealer to give him another card, and got a ten of clubs. He glanced at the ten of hearts before the dealer, sighed and motioned for one more card.

It was another ten. "House wins," the dealer announced, sweeping up the cards and Sellers' chips. Sellers gave Laurel a wry smile. "I've never been very good at this game," he said. "But at least I'm losing for a good cause." He extended a hand. "Jim Sellers."

Laurel gave it a polite shake as she slid onto one of the benches. "I'm Dinah," she said. "You should have split your hand."

When he gave her a confused look, she said, "It's a side rule in blackjack. If you have two cards of the same value, you can split them into two separate hands. You have to double your bet when you do that…"

"But that would increase my chances of breaking even, and give me two chances to win, right?"

Laurel nodded. "Right! Now, you had two aces, so you could have split them and you wouldn't have gone bust with those extra cards."

"I'd've won twice instead."

"Exactly. And since the house is matching all winnings for the charity, it would have been even better for your good cause."

Sellers chuckled. "Fantastic. Know any other good side rules?"

Laurel gave him a big smile. "I know all of them."

He slid some chips over to her. "Then teach me." He looked at the dealer. "Buddy, let's go another round."

* * *

On the Waverider, Len raised an eyebrow at Sara. "You never told me your sister was a card sharp too."

She grinned. "Only with blackjack. I can take her in poker or gin any day, and I don't even have to cheat."

"We'll have to get a game up. After this mission."

Rip gave an irritated rumble. "Let's get through the mission first, all right? Dr. Palmer, how's the snooping around going?"

Ray had already been through the coatroom, the kitchen and a storage room without finding anything interesting. _"I'm heading upstairs now,"_ he said.

His video feed was being projected through the holo table. He was ascending a mahogany staircase, which led to a long hallway lined with doors on either side.

"So, what's going on behind those closed doors?" Sara wondered aloud.

 _"Let's take a look,"_ Ray said, and flew through the keyhole of one of them.

Jaws dropped again around the holo table. Stein put his hand to his forehead with a little groan and turned away from the projection.

"Hey, isn't that Congressman Lawson from Central City?" Kendra asked.

"You mean Congressman Law-and-Order?" Mick replied.

"Hard to tell when he's naked," Jax said with a wide-eyed stare.

"It's Lawson," Len declared with a nod. "That nose gives him away."

Kendra made a face. "I served him once at Jitters. He seemed so nice. I wouldn't think he could be so…"

"Creative?" Len suggested.

"Flexible?" Sara offered.

"How about perverted?" Stein snapped, still facing away from the table.

"Oh, I don't know, professor," Len said, leaning forward to study the image. "He's showing some real 'outside the box' thinking here. We need more of that in Washington." He leaned back again as Jax choked back a laugh. "Guess I'll have to vote for him next time."

"You're an escaped felon, Mr. Snart!" Stein sputtered. "You and Mr. Rory aren't even eligible to vote!"

"Even if I could vote, you all ignored me when I said I didn't like this plan," Mick grumbled. "If you haven't noticed yet, the woman Lawson is with is one of the so-called hostesses from the so-called modeling agency."

Stein whirled around. "Good heavens. So 'modeling agency' is a euphemism for…"

"Call girl ring," Rip finished. "For pity's sake, Dr. Palmer, look somewhere else, will you? And Laurel, whatever you do, don't go upstairs with the colonel. Keep him at the blackjack table."

They didn't expect Laurel to actually answer them. But they also didn't expect the voice they heard coming over her audio feed.

 _"I don't believe I've seen you before. I am Anton Hastor. This is my club."_

"Oh, no," Kendra breathed.

Sara's eyes widened. "That's Savage!"

* * *

AUTHOR'S END NOTE: Something interesting caught by Jael. There actually was a Colonel James M. Sellers in the US Marine Corps in WWI. He went on to become the president of Wentworth Military Academy.

Really.

And I knew none of this when I named the character! I came up with it by altering the name of a former Joint Chief of Staff!


	2. Chapter 2

Laurel reminded herself to stay calm. Savage wouldn't meet her until 2015 and even then, it wasn't likely he'd recognize the masked, blond Black Canary of 2015 as one of the scantily clad hostesses of his club in 1990.

Especially considering the long red wig she was wearing.

She finished her hand and nodded at the dealer and the colonel before pasting on a smile and turning to Savage.

"I'm Dinah. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hastor," she said, holding out her hand.

He took it and kissed it like a courtier. "I see you have been busy instructing Colonel Sellers in the intricacies of blackjack," he said, keeping his grip on her hand.

"And she's doing a fine job of it," Sellers said. "Although I'm afraid that means you'll be putting a bit more money into the Veterans' House than you might have planned."

"Hope you don't mind," Laurel said sweetly, wishing she could pull her hand away but not daring, trying to play the role of perfect hostess.

Or call girl, rather. She wouldn't blow her cover until she had to.

Savage inclined his head. "Anything to serve those who have served this country," he said. "Colonel, I hope you don't mind my borrowing Dinah here for a dance?"

Sellers waved a hand in a "no problem" gesture. "It's your party, Mr. Hastor."

"My dear?" Savage asked.

She took a breath and brushed back a lock of her wig. "My pleasure."

"Should I get back down to the party?" Ray asked. He'd just flown out of Lawson's room and was hovering in the hallway.

 _"Savage can't possibly identify Laurel,"_ Rip answered.

 _"And she can handle herself,"_ Sara added.

 _"Stay on mission,"_ Rip continued. _"There's more to this than powerful men patronizing prostitutes."_

 _"All that alliteration. I'm impressed,"_ Len said drily. _"But you're right. Raymond, go back into one of those rooms and see if you can spot any hidden cameras."_

Ray chose another keyhole and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the room was empty, although the bed was mussed. He tapped his helmet visor to turn on the scanner. "Bingo. There are two cameras in here, pointed at the bed."

He flew close to one of the cameras, and saw wiring going into the ceiling. He shrank himself a little smaller so he could make it through the gap between the wire and the plaster. Once he was through, he followed the wires to a room lined with shelves of VHS tapes on three sides. The fourth wall had a rack of videotape machines and television monitors, one for each of the bedroom cameras.

On one of the screens, Congressman Lawson was still… being creative… and it was all being recorded on one of the machines.

Ray returned to full size and walked up to one of the shelves of tapes, all labeled with the names of Washington's powerful. He found a tape labeled _REP. LEVITT_. Stein's old school chum. "Guys, are you seeing this?"

 _"Amazing,"_ Stein said. _"Any one of those tapes could create a tremendous scandal if it were released."_

 _"And those scandals could bring the American government to its knees,"_ Rip said.

 _"So what do we do about them?"_ Kendra asked.

Ray smiled. "Well, good thing I have a super suit that can project electricity." He flipped open a panel on his left gauntlet and began to work.

 _"Haircut, if we wanted to burn the place down_ I'd _have gone on this mission."_

"Who said anything about burning the place down, Mick?" Ray answered. "I'm being subtle, just like Rip wanted." He closed the panel again. "There. One electromagnetic degausser."

 _"I don't get it,"_ Sara said.

"You know how a magnet can ruin a credit card?" Ray said. "I just turned my gauntlet into a magnet, and I'm standing in the middle of Savage's wallet."

 _"His gauntlet will erase all the tapes!"_ Jax said.

 _"Excellent thinking, Dr. Palmer,"_ Stein said.

Ray grinned at the praise and turned on the magnet. He walked alongside the shelves of tapes, waving his arm up and down to be sure he'd covered everything.

"Okay, so Savage's political porn collection is toast," he said. "Phoenix, I think it's time we got out of here."

Laurel would have liked nothing better than to get out of there, but at the moment Savage had a firm grip on her as they moved across the dance floor to the crooning of Chris Isaak.

 _What a wicked game you played to make me feel this way_

 _What a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you_

"So are you enjoying the party?" he asked her.

Her pasted-on smile got a little wider. "It's great."

Savage gave her a smile that she knew was equally false. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. "

He pulled her a little closer to whisper into her ear – thankfully not the one with the comm device in it. "You are new, so perhaps you don't understand your job here tonight. It's not to teach the mark how to beat the house. It's to get the mark upstairs and on tape."

 _"Told you I didn't like this,"_ Mick rumbled over the comms. Laurel had to agree with him.

Savage pulled back, and the false smile was gone. "Do you understand?"

She nodded, hoping her own expression would convince him that she was nothing more than a call girl new to this particular wicked game.

He studied her for a second with his eyes narrowed, then smiled again. "Good," he said. "Go on back to the colonel, and get him upstairs." He leaned in closer again. "I've been trying to get that man in here for three months. Make sure it's worth the wait."

He released her and gave her hand another courtly little kiss before walking off toward the bar. She turned back toward the blackjack table, where Sellers was still playing.

 _"Don't worry, Phoenix,"_ Ray said. _"I'm working on a diversion."_

Sellers' stack of chips had gotten fairly large while she was away. "Looks like you're doing pretty well for yourself," she told him.

"I've been lucky," he said. "Isn't that right, Dave?"

The dealer chortled. "Real lucky. He doubled down on a 19… and _won_."

That was usually a suicide play. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed!"

 _"Laurel, you're going to have to teach me your blackjack tricks,"_ Len said. _"Stand by for Ray's diversion."_

A waitress walked up to them, two drinks on her tray. "A cabernet for the lady and cognac for the gentleman, compliments of Mr. Hastor," she said, handing a wine glass to Laurel and a snifter of something amber to Sellers.

He lifted the glass in a toast. "To Mr. Hastor," he said, tilting his head toward Laurel.

"To the veterans he's helping," she returned, touching her glass to his. Before they could drink, a loud fire alarm started blaring. A split second later, water started pouring down from the sprinkler system on the ceiling.

 _"There's your diversion,"_ Ray said. _"Phoenix, get out of there. I'll meet you outside."_

One thing Laurel could say for Sellers: He kept his head in a crisis. He put both their glasses down on the blackjack table and took Laurel by the arm, following the crowd toward the exit. Once they were outside, he took off his uniform coat and draped it around her shoulders. "Dinah, stay out here where it's safe," he said. "I'm going back to make sure everyone gets out."

He disappeared back into the club.

 _"A real hero,"_ Len drawled. _"Guess we can trust him with the country's future nuclear arsenal."_

Fire trucks were just starting to arrive. In the emergency lights, Laurel could see people pouring out of the building. She started a little at a hand on her elbow, then relaxed when she saw it was Ray, returned to normal size. He was wearing a fedora pulled down low, and a long black coat that covered most of his ATOM suit. She tugged at the sleeve and asked, "Where'd this come from?"

"Grabbed it and the hat from the coatroom before setting off the fire alarms," he answered. "Didn't think it was a good idea for you to walk back to the Waverider alone. Not that I think you can't handle yourself. But… subtle, right?"

Laurel chuckled. "You're a regular knight in shining dwarf-star alloy," she teased.

Ray grinned before shifting his focus back to the club. His eyes narrowed. She turned to see where he was looking.

Savage was pacing back and forth near the entrance with an expression of pure fury. Laurel exchanged a look with Ray, and they melted back into the darkness.

When they returned to the Waverider, Ray produced a pair of bottles from his coat pockets. "Swiped them from Savage's storage room before I left," he said. "I don't think he'll miss them. He had cases of the stuff."

Len raised an eyebrow. "Nice work, Raymond. We'll make a thief out of you yet."

Ray grinned. "Was that a compliment?"

"Don't get used to it."

Stein peered at the labels. "Hennessy XO cognac, and a Chateau Montelena cabernet. He might be a madman, but Savage does have excellent taste for stocking his bar."

"Never mind his liquor. Does he still have his network?" Kendra asked.

"Negative," Gideon answered promptly. "Records show Savage loses his influence in Washington after this date. In two years, the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty will be signed."

"So a plan worked for once?" Jax asked.

Rip shot him a slightly sour look, then smiled. "It would appear so, Mr. Jackson. And I think that calls for a celebration."

He grabbed the cognac from Ray and motioned to the team to follow him into his study, where he opened the bottle and began pouring glasses. Sara passed them around, stopping and looking uncertain when she got to Laurel.

"Just a half a glass," Laurel said, thinking about the glass of wine she'd been served in the club. "If the Pit didn't cure my alcoholism, better for me to find out here than out in the field."

Sara nodded and handed her a glass.

Once everyone was served, Rip held up his own glass. "To Laurel's first undercover mission!"

Laurel closed her eyes and took a sip of the spicy liquor. After a moment she opened her eyes again to consider her glass. Then she looked up to see Sara watching her closely.

"I'm okay," Laurel said, knowing just what her sister was thinking. "It doesn't feel the way it did before. I guess the Pit did cure me." She grinned. "But I'm not going to push it. Once this is gone, I'm done."

Stein smiled and raised his glass in her direction again. "If the first sip didn't create a craving for more, that's a very, very good sign, Miss Lance."

"And you skipping seconds means more for the rest of us," Len said, motioning to Rip for a refill, along with Mick and Sara. Then he raised his glass. "To Raymond's timing. He saved Laurel from blowing her cover as a member of the world's oldest profession."

Mick actually growled at Len's toast, then tossed back his drink and held his glass out once more.

Ray held his glass out as well. "This is pretty good stuff."

Laurel nodded in agreement, sipping hers slowly, alert to her own reactions to the alcohol. She still didn't feel any desire for a second drink, but she was starting to feel… warm. More so than she'd expect with such a small amount of liquor.

"I'll take some more, too," Kendra said, nodding her thanks to Rip when he poured.

Stein declined another glass. "Fine cognac is meant to be savored, not chugged," he said with a pointed look at the others. Particularly Mick. "Now that we've saved the world… again… a book is calling my name back in my quarters. Good evening."

A few "good nights" followed the professor off the bridge. Jax considered his glass, which was still more than half-full. "I don't think savor is the word I'd use for this," he said, scrunching his nose in distaste.

"You'll grow into it someday, kid," Mick told him.

Rip set down the bottle and his empty glass. "It's just as well, Mr. Jackson. I want to take a look at the time drive before we depart 1990, and I'd appreciate an unimpaired second set of eyes."

"Sure, Rip," Jax said, rising from his chair and putting his glass down. He waved at the others as he followed the captain out.

Len poured himself another drink, then took Jax's chair. Sara giggled as he pulled her down into his lap. "What's gotten into you?" she asked as he nuzzled her neck.

"Are you objecting?" He began planting kisses along her neck and ear.

"No-mmmm."

Even if Sara was inclined to object, Len wasn't giving her a chance, covering her mouth with his own in a kiss that quickly became anything but chaste, his free hand beginning to wander. Laurel felt herself flushing a little, and looked away…

… to see Ray and Kendra similarly… involved.

"Uh…" Laurel finished her cognac and put her glass down. "I think… I've had enough."

Mick gave her one of those quick little smiles of his, just an upturning of the corners of his mouth. "That's good, Ladybird. Gotta know when to say when."

She was feeling warmer. "I think… I think I'm going to get out of this dress."

She left the study and headed toward the passageway to her room. She paused for a moment and leaned against the bulkhead.

She couldn't remember feeling this way when she drank before, a sort of tingly sensation under her skin. She shook her head and started walking again, but only got a few steps down the corridor when her spike heel caught in the grate and she began to fall.

She was caught by a pair of strong hands. "Easy there, Ladybird," Mick said, helping to steady her.

She gasped a little. For a big man, Mick could move very silently; she hadn't known he was in the corridor too. "I… these shoes," she said. She bent down to try to take one off, and swayed a little. She grabbed his arm to keep from falling.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she said. "Maybe that cognac was too much for me." She leaned into him. "I feel like I can't even walk."

He swept her up into his arms. "You don't have to."

She put her head against his shoulder as he carried her down the corridor.

* * *

One more chapter, to be posted Tuesday. Reviews are love.


	3. Chapter 3

The spike heels were in one corner of her room. The uniform jacket was in another corner.

But the dress was still on her body, the tape still holding everything in place.

After assessing her own condition, Laurel took in a breath and reach to move the blanket covering Mick.

He was still dressed, too.

So, whatever had happened between them last night, it wasn't… _that._

But what _was_ it?

Perhaps Mick would remember, because she certainly didn't. She stepped closer to the bed and reached out to gently shake him awake. "Mick? Mick, wake up."

His snoring was broken by a snort, and then Mick's eyes snapped open. He sat up quickly, the reflex of a man who'd learned over the years to wake ready for a fight. He glanced around the room, his eyes eventually settling back on Laurel. "You all right, Ladybird?"

She spread her hands. "I… yes. I'm fine. What happened?"

"Not sure," he answered, swinging his legs off the bed. "What do you remember?"

She thought for a moment, then said slowly, "I remember feeling warm and sort of… tingly. And I had trouble walking..."

She tilted her head at him. "I fell and you caught me. Then you… carried me back here."

She thought some more and shook her head. "That's all I remember."

Mick grunted. "Well, Ladybird, you were seeming awfully… _friendly_ when I got you here. Not that I mind friendly, but you weren't in your right mind. I stayed to make sure you didn't get friendly with anybody else on board."

Her eyes widened. "Friendly… you mean…"

"Yeah, I mean," he answered with a significant look. "Don't worry, Ladybird. _Nothing_ happened."

He slid off the bed. "Get changed. That… _thing_ you're wearing can't be comfortable. I'm going to check on the rest of the team. Some of them were awfully friendly last night too. Something's going on."

He brushed past her on the way to the door. "Mick…"

He turned back with one of his slight smiles. "We'll talk about it later, all right?"

She nodded, and he left.

* * *

The others were also out of sorts when they gathered in the Medbay a short time later. Sara and Kendra both looked the way Laurel felt: A bit muddled and not entirely clear about what had happened since last night. Rip, Jax and Stein all looked like they were short on sleep.

Len and Ray were the worst of the lot, looking like it was the day after a particularly wild bachelor party.

"Well, something obviously happened to all of us last night to make us sleep until afternoon," Rip began.

Ray groaned at the sound of his voice. "Maybe just a little quieter, Rip?" he begged.

Len was rubbing his temples. "Gideon, where's your miracle hangover cure?"

"Your conditions go beyond simple overindulgence in alcohol," Gideon replied. "I need blood samples to determine the proper treatment."

"And a sample of this, I think," Rip said, producing the bottles Ray had brought in last night. There was still a little of the cognac left, and the cabernet was still unopened.

The samples were obtained in short order, and it wasn't long before Gideon was reporting results.

"The cognac has been chemically altered," she said. "In addition to the traditional ingredients, I am detecting a large percentage of synthetic chemicals."

"Not part of the usual Hennessy recipe, I'd guess," Rip said. "What effect do these… additions… have?"

"They appear to affect one's emotions, stimulating and intensifying them," she said. "They can increase the camaraderie that already exists between two persons, such as Captain Hunter and Mr. Jackson experienced while inspecting the time drive last night."

"So you paid attention to one of my football stories last night because of a drug?" Jax asked Rip.

The captain shrugged. "So it appears. I'm afraid I still don't understand the game, Mr. Jackson."

"That's okay. A lot of Americans don't really understand it, either," Kendra said with a bit of a smile. "Gideon, what else could this drug do?"

"There is a soporific element, which is why you all slept longer than usual. But mostly, the chemicals seem to have an especially strong effect when interacting with testosterone."

"The male sex hormone," Sara said.

"Women have it too," Laurel pointed out. "Just in lower amounts."

Gideon continued, "This chemical compound seems to work with testosterone to promote sexual desire. For Professor Stein, it manifested as a particularly vivid dream of…"

Stein cut her off. "That's all they need to know, Gideon!"

The AI went on, "There is then an aftereffect of negative symptoms triggered by the hormonal changes associated with sexual intercourse and orgasm. Those symptoms are very similar to the standard response to overindulgence in alcohol. Those of you who experienced lower amounts of testosterone release would feel disorientation and fatigue."

Jax eyed Len and Ray. "That why you two look like ten miles of bad road?"

Rip groaned. "Please tell me you all made it back to your quarters first."

Len just gave them both a bleary glare. "Gideon, never mind the health class lecture. Can you _do_ something about it?"

The AI sounded almost chipper as she said, "I have a counteragent in pharmaceutical storage. Bottle 52, Captain Hunter."

Rip went to retrieve the bottle as Gideon continued, "The pills will counteract the ill effects."

Rip went around the room, passing the pills around for each of them to dry-swallow. It wasn't long before expressions of relief began crossing their faces.

Except for Mick. He didn't take a pill. Nor did he look like he needed one. Laurel wrinkled her brow. "Mick, you drank more of that than any of us. Why do you seem so… normal today?"

Mick snorted. " _Normal._ I'm _not_ normal. Haven't been for a long time. It's a leftover from Chronos."

Laurel's eyes widened. She only knew a little about Mick having been co-opted by the Time Masters as a temporal bounty hunter. Sara said it was Mick's story to tell, and he hadn't talked much about it.

He was talking now. "It's not unusual for a target to try to use sex as a bargaining chip. Or a diversion. So the Time Masters alter a bounty hunter's body chemistry so they won't respond unless they want to."

"You mean you can't…?"

Mick leveled a glare at Ray. "Didn't say _that_ , Haircut. Did you forget about me and the Pilgrim? But aphrodisiacs don't have an effect on me."

"They would have an effect on the men in Savage's club, though," Kendra surmised. "That's how he got them to go to his little porn studios. They were under the influence."

Stein nodded. "A little alcohol to release inhibitions, the aphrodisiac to create desire…"

"Pretty girls in skimpy dresses for visual stimulation," Ray added.

"It's a fairly effective combination," Rip said. "But Martin, from our own experiences last night, there's no guarantee this stuff…" he held up the cognac bottle, "will have a man falling into bed, especially with a woman he barely knows. Gideon, what about that cabernet?"

"That was also chemically altered," Gideon reported. "The added ingredient would stimulate female pheromone production."

"Bait for the fish," Sara said with a smirk.

Laurel remembered, "Savage sent a cognac to Sellers last night, and a cabernet to me."

"Trying to make sure you got him upstairs," Len said.

"Captain Hunter, I've also found a danger to this pheromone enhancer," Gideon said. "Continued exposure to it leads to death."

"Those girls Savage hires…" Jax said.

"Collateral damage," Mick growled. "Ladybird, you didn't drink any of that stuff, did you?"

Laurel shook her head, and Mick gave a single nod before looking over at Ray. "You said Savage had cases of it?"

Ray nodded. "And with all the water damage to the club, he could decide to pack it all up and move it to some other nuclear power, to run the same game."

"And poison girls in some other country. No. Not after tonight," Mick said. He was glowering as he walked out of the Medbay. "I got this."

* * *

Mick didn't go it alone; the team went back to the now-closed club with him. Firestorm, Kendra and Ray acted as rooftop lookouts, while the others helped disable the guards, leaving them tied up across the street. ("It's not their fault their boss is a lunatic," Len said.)

Mick did the honors, though. The heat from his gun was enough to turn the remaining moisture in the still-wet mahogany into steam. The wood caught fire, and the club burned.

He came out of the building smelling of smoke, with a satisfied gleam in his eye. Laurel thought she saw him smile when they heard the tinkle of glass breaking inside.

"Let's get the hell out of here," he said.

* * *

They were back in the Temporal Zone when Laurel went to Mick in the weapons room. He was busy cleaning the Heat Gun after the night's work.

"You said we'd talk about it later," she said. "It's later."

Mick grunted in acknowledgment, but didn't speak.

She took a seat on one of the crates. "You told me I was… friendly… last night. Just… how friendly?"

He chuckled. "There's a reason I call you Ladybird, you know," he said, still looking at the gun as he put some pieces back together. "You _are_ a lady. You didn't do anything that would shock your mother or make your dad come after me with a shotgun."

"Or my sister with a knife?"

Another chuckle. "Or that." He flicked his eyes up to her. "Just a kiss, Ladybird. And you missed my mouth. Got me on the chin," he said, tapping his chin with a finger.

Laurel flushed a little and looked down at the deck. "Gideon said that drug intensified emotions."

"Yeah."

She looked back up at him. "But it had no effect on you."

He shook his head. "No. Because I was Chronos."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, then he said, "I'm glad it didn't work."

That… hurt. More than she'd expected it to. Mick must have seen something in her eyes, because he quickly put his hands up and said, "You weren't in your right mind, Lady… _Laurel._ If something happens between us, I don't want it to be because of some drug."

Now there was pain in _his_ eyes. "I want to be wanted for _me_ ," he said. "Maritza… the Pilgrim… only wanted me so I would stay under the control of the Time Masters, working for them as Chronos. That was it. Once I was out of their control, anything she and I had was dead. Just like she wanted me to be dead."

"Mick…"

Roughly, he said, "You need to understand! I was a killer for them! I'm not a good man, Laurel."

She rose from the crate and walked over to him, slowly, giving him time to step back if he wanted. "You're better than you think, Mick," she said. "A bad man wouldn't care whether a bunch of call girls got poisoned by some spiked wine. A bad man wouldn't have carried me up and down that mountain in Nanda Parbat. A bad man wouldn't have stayed with this mission. You've made mistakes, but you're not a bad man. You've just done some bad things… but you haven't done them lately."

He huffed. "Maybe. But like I said, you're a lady. And I'm no gentleman."

"You didn't take advantage of me last night. And you're trying to warn me away right now. You're a gentleman in my book." She chuckled. "And I have to admit, that thought surprises me as much as it surprises you. You're not what I first thought you were."

She stepped closer, and he didn't move away. "Sara told me there was more to you than meets the eye. I've been seeing a little of it since I came on board, and I'd like to know more. And for the record, I _am_ in my right mind now." She laid a hand on his arm. "So what do _you_ want, Mick?"

He studied her eyes for a moment, and laughed softly. "Well, if it's all right with you… since you _are_ in your right mind now… I'd like to try that kiss again?"

She nodded. He dipped his head and her mouth met his surprisingly soft lips. A proper kiss this time. She could feel the scrape of his stubble against her skin, and felt his hands resting on her hips.

She smiled when she pulled away, and was pleased to see him smiling too. _Really_ smiling, not his usual quick smirk. "That was… nice," he said.

She quirked an eyebrow up. "Nice?"

He laughed softly. "Okay, more than nice. But... before we do anything more… I think I oughta take you to dinner first. Next place we visit. But for now… maybe we can… talk?"

She nodded, smiling. "Sure, Mick. We can do that."

"Good," he grunted. He motioned at the Heat Gun. "Just… lemme finish this first. Boss yells at me when I leave a job unfinished."

Laurel dimpled and nodded, and he returned to his work.

Sara would probably tease her unmercifully, after the way she had reacted to Len in the beginning. Her father would be appalled if he knew. And Oliver…

Before she died, she'd told Oliver he was the love of her life, Laurel reflected as she watched Mick finish reassembling his Heat Gun.

But that was another life, and Oliver had moved on, long ago.

It was past time for her to do the same.


End file.
